


Arithmancy and Quidditch

by grace_lou_freebush



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Come Kink, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, F/M, Hand & Finger Kink, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Outdoor Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Quidditch, Smut, Wall Sex, possessive kink, tall/small, tol/smol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:48:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24974083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grace_lou_freebush/pseuds/grace_lou_freebush
Summary: Hermione and Draco are partners on an Arithmancy project during their eighth year, but Draco fails to meet up at their agreed upon time. When Hermione finds him down at the Quidditch pitch, she just might change her mind about how upset she is."She hadn't seen him up close in his Quidditch kit since second year, and the sight made her snap her jaw shut and swallow. Her eyes trailed from his massive hands and his covered forearms up to his square shoulders. His emerald green robes fit over his light pads snuggly and hung like a second skin down his slim torso. Quidditch robes were designed to be trim, without excess fabric, for speed and agility, and Hermione was reaping the benefits of that now.At the waist, the robes parted to showcase the tight trousers he wore to cover his lower half. The white fabric almost glowed in the twilight, and shadows at his groin left little to the imagination as the fabric bunched at his hips, creating an impressive display of his package.He'd slowed down as he approached the locker rooms, and Hermione drank her fill of his body before snapping her eyes up to see his face lit by the lamp at the Slytherin entrance."
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 62
Kudos: 761
Collections: Draco Fic's for Valerie, Dramione Height Difference  2020, Quidditch Stories





	Arithmancy and Quidditch

**Author's Note:**

> Much love to [Aneiria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aneiria/pseuds/Aneiria) and [magical_traveler](https://archiveofourown.org/users/magical_traveler/pseuds/magical_traveler) for giving the push and support to get this done and for beta reading at the last possible moment! All remaining errors are my own.
> 
> And of course a big thank you to [Musyc](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Musyc/pseuds/Musyc) for hosting the fest and being such a supportive and fun part of the community!
> 
> I never know if we're still supposed to be doing disclaimers, but this is a fanwork not affiliated with JK Rowling, and I'm not making any money over this.

Hermione neatly stacked the Arithmancy texts she'd picked from the shelves on the corner of the library table.

This was noteworthy because, typically, Hermione preferred to let her reference books, notes, and assignments sprawl across the whole tabletop meant for four students while she worked.

But this evening, she placed each tome deliberately on top of the last, lining up the spines perfectly. Then, she pulled out the project instructions, a roll of parchment, and her quill and ink. Setting them in an organized row in front of herself and making sure to leave half of the workspace clear, she sat and waited.

She checked her watch. She'd been a little eager to get to the library on time, and she knew her paired partner's Quidditch practice had only been scheduled to end five minutes prior - not to mention he'd need time to shower and change and gather his own school supplies.

Oh well, that's what she got for developing feelings for Draco Malfoy: a metric tonne of trying too hard and immediately second guessing everything she did.

Huffing to herself and tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, she reviewed the instructions for the fourteenth time. She underlined the grading requirements a second time, even though she'd already memorised the list. Letting the tip of her quill tickle her nose and cupid's bow, she trailed the feather in light circles as she waited.

Twenty minutes passed by.

She had opened the top-most book and begun notating promising looking page numbers fifteen minutes ago. She'd seen the Slytherin team captain enter the library in a flurry eleven minutes after that. She'd given up the pretense of studying sometime in the last two minutes, setting the book to the side and watching the library doors intently.

Hermione's leg bounced in anticipation. Her toes sat firmly on the floor, but with her back flush with the chairback, her heels didn't quite brush the ground. Jouncing her heel up and down rapidly had become a tic of hers from a young age. It helped to keep the blood flow moving through her lower extremities while she worked long hours. She couldn't quantify the number of times she'd been so engrossed in a book that her feet had gone numb and tingly with sleep.

Another minute ticked by, and Beth Whitacre, the seventh year Slytherin Quidditch captain, tiptoed up to Hermione's table.

"Are you using _Even Numbers in Odd Spellcasting_?" Beth asked from behind the empty chair that should have been occupied by Hermione’s project partner.

Hermione opened her mouth to snap at her. _Yes, she very much was planning on using the book on the bottom of her stack. Just as soon as that git of a Malfoy showed up to help with the work._

But that wouldn't be fair to Beth, who was also in their Arithmancy class and had every right to a library book Hermione wasn't sure she would even crack open this evening.

"Yes, no. You can take it," Hermione grumbled.

The tall, lithe girl delicately slid the book out without disturbing the rest of Hermione's order. She flicked a lock of pin straight hair over her shoulder and turned back to Hermione.

"Are you waiting on Malfoy? He said he had to work off some steam after I ended practice. I was the last one out of the showers, and he was still flying with no indication of stopping anytime soon."

A chill seeped down from Hermione's scalp as the blood rushed out of her face. A hollow ringing clogged up her ears. 

He had stood her up.

She'd waited all this time. And she'd taken such care to prepare for their work. And he'd decided to stay late and fly on his stupid broom instead of meet for their very important project at their agreed upon time.

Suddenly, heat flared back to life in her cheeks. Her eyes narrowed from wide and upset to livid. She noisily scooted her chair back so she could spring to her feet. The curls she had tucked neatly behind her ears bounced free and untamed, billowing around her as if her sudden fury could not be contained in her petite body.

"Thank you, Beth," she managed to grind out while pointedly restraining her jaw from clenching. "If you'd like any of these other references, I won't be using them tonight."

With jagged sweeps and jabs, Hermione cleared her schoolwork with her wand, sending her things into her bookbag before storming out the door. Her anger carried her through the castle and down the lawn to the Quidditch pitch.

The days were getting longer as the end of the school year approached and spring bled into summer, so there was still enough light to illuminate a green figure zooming at breakneck speeds at breakneck heights as she approached the stadium.

Hermione hated flying. It was not a skill she innately possessed, and while she was proficient on a broom, she had always been more than a bit afraid of falling. Because of this and despite herself, she had developed quite a fancy for Quidditch players, those who had conquered her fear and made defying gravity look easy and fun.

Watching a fit male steer his broom into death defying moves simultaneously made her stomach drop into her abdomen and made her clench her thighs together with arousal. That arousal was not helped by the tight fitting trousers that were a standard part of the uniform-robes nor the forearm bracers that hinted at solid muscles and the shoulder pads that accentuated a strong frame. No, her swotty reputation notwithstanding, Hermione was weak for handsome athletes.

Her footsteps stalled at the corner of the locker rooms. She was shadowed on the eastern side of the building but had a clear view of the blond Slytherin seeker performing barrel rolls, steep dives, and pin-tight turns. Every time he safely completed a manoeuvre that appeared as if he should have fallen to his grave, Hermione let out a breathless gasp. Every time Hermione let out a breathless gasp, it came out less and less terrified and more and more lustful.

As the sun drifted closer to the horizon and the sky turned orange then pink then purple, Draco zoomed back to the earth, landing smoothly and lightly on his feet. He jogged towards the changing rooms with his broom tucked under his armpit while he tugged at the laces of his bracers with nimble fingers. When he approached, Hermione could hear him muttering to himself.

"Shit. I lost track of time. She's going to kill me. I can't believe I let myself get distracted for that long. Salazar, I always manage to ruin things with Granger, don't I? How am I going to make it up to her? Fuck!"

As he got closer, Hermione could see the jerky way his fingers tugged at the laces, clearly working on muscle memory rather than focused movements. She hadn't seen him up close in his Quidditch kit since second year, and the sight made her snap her jaw shut and swallow. Her eyes trailed from his massive hands and his covered forearms up to his square shoulders. His emerald green robes fit over his light pads snuggly and hung like a second skin down his slim torso. Quidditch robes were designed to be trim, without excess fabric, for speed and agility, and Hermione was reaping the benefits of that now.

At the waist, the robes parted to showcase the tight trousers he wore to cover his lower half. The white fabric almost glowed in the twilight, and shadows at his groin left little to the imagination as the fabric bunched at his hips, creating an impressive display of his package. Tearing her gaze from that sight with some effort, she followed his lean thighs down to his shin guards and Quidditch shoes.

Draco slowed as he approached the locker rooms, and Hermione drank her fill of his body before snapping her eyes up to see his face lit by the lamp at the Slytherin entrance. Damp, windswept hair glinted in the candlelight, pushed back from his forehead. A sheen of sweat darkened his temples and hairline. Frantic, silver eyes glinted as he tilted his head back and cursed at the universe.

Before Hermione knew what she was doing, she dropped her bookbag and sprinted around the corner of the building. Draco was easily a foot taller than her, so she gave herself a bit of a boosted hop when she collided with him, throwing her arms over his shoulders as he turned at her movement.

His reflexes alone were what caught her from tumbling down his taut body and landing in the grass on her arse. His bracers and broom dropped in the same moment his hands cupped her thighs to his.

"You're such an idiot," she informed him as her lips descended upon his.

The shoulder and chest pads were sturdy beneath her fingers. When she wrapped her right arm more securely around his neck, she ran her fingers through the fine hair at the top of his head, sighing against his lips.

He cottoned on quickly, his mouth merging with hers with intent nearly immediately. Pivoting, Draco leaned her into the side of the building, right next to the doorway into the Slytherin showers. If she'd opened her eyes, Hermione would have seen the way the candlelight danced across his reverent, disbelieving expression.

Her skin scorched where they touched, and that felt like everywhere to her as she pressed her front along his torso. Draco's hands skimmed from her legs, around the curve of her arse, and up her spine to wrap around her narrow waist. The heat permeated her layers of clothes nearly from her breasts to hip bones, and she could feel his thumbs curl and knead into her stomach mere centimetres from touching each other beneath her belly button.

She arched into him and whimpered into his open mouth.

He tilted his head to the side, trailing kisses from the corner of her mouth to her ear then down her neck, his hands contracting rhythmically with the little noises she made.

When she sighed his name, he drove his hips up, and she felt the rigid length she'd ogled earlier make purchase against her centre. They both groaned.

Fingers gripping his collar, Hermione tugged at his robes. "Off, off," she begged, unable to move to give enough space to get their clothing out of the way.

Growling against the spot on her neck that he was attached to, Draco stepped back and lowered her to the ground. His head followed her down as he curled his shoulders and bent his neck to keep his lips attached to her as long as possible.

With seemingly great reluctance, he removed himself from her. His hands skated from her waist and moved to the fastenings on his robes as he stood tall before her once again. As his large, sure fingers slipped buttons from loops, he spoke, his voice low and rasping. "Are you going to let me fuck you, Granger?"

Her eyes trained up to find him already staring intensely down at her, grey irises and blown pupils flicking over her face for permission where his voice demanded obedience. Her legs shook, and she was glad for the wall at her back.

In answer, Hermione slid her school robes from her shoulders, letting the fabric pool at her feet. She tugged her vest over her head, lamenting how unsexy it was to pull her voluminous curls out of the wool. Draco didn't seem to mind, though, as he watched her greedily.

His Quidditch uniform fell to the ground, and he had his seeker pads discarded within the next moment. The minimal lighting threw the creases of his pectoral and abdominal muscles into sharp relief, his pale skin glowing with the small point of firelight. Hermione's hands moved of their own volition to palm his chest, her nails dragging through the sparse, coarse hair found across his pecs and down his stomach.

She stared at him in awe, not quite believing her luck. Despite how coridgal they’d been all year, she’d been half afraid he would dump her on the ground and laugh at her. She’d fantasized for months about what he would look like beneath his robes. 

She traced a shiny, slightly puckered scar down his sternum, marvelling at the way his skin shivered beneath her ministrations.

While she explored bare skin, Draco pulled the end of her tie loose, undid the buttons of her Oxford shirt, and glided her skirt down her legs. One finger ghosted across the edge of her nude bra, slipping into the cup to tease a nipple before retreating so he could palm her whole breast. Hermione had never felt that her bust was lacking, but the way Draco's hand dwarfed her made her self conscious.

Heat flared up her neck even as liquid fire shot from the area of contact down to her womb, and she looked away from his face.

His other hand drifted beneath her open shirt to cup her right breast, and he bent to dip his tongue into her cleavage. He mumbled something into her skin that she couldn't hear, but the vibrations of his voice carried through her, making her quiver in anticipation.

Continuing to caress her through her bra, Draco skimmed his mouth across her collarbone and up to her ear, nuzzling his way through her unruly curls so his breath puffed against the shell of her ear. "How do you taste, Granger? Do you finger yourself and clean up the mess with your lush mouth? Hmmm? I bet you'll taste sweet against my tongue, won't you?"

At Draco's words, Hermione's brain blanked. A primal sound wrenched its way up her throat, her fingers curled against his body, and she clasped her thighs together as her hips rocked forward.

Draco's right hand snagged the side of her lace knickers and tore through the delicate fabric. Through the lust, the well of her irritation at the wizard overflowed, and she snapped at him, "Hey! Do you have any id—"

Her complaints broke off as one of his digits snuck through her folds, gathering the moisture that was already there, swirling the bud of her clit once, and sinking his middle finger straight into her. The stretch was so much more than her own fingers - she hadn't been with a man in months, and the feeling was almost alien.

One of his fingers felt like two of hers, plus an extra three centimetres of length. It had her stretching to her toes and clamping down on him at the same time from the sudden intrusion.

"Fuck, you're so tight," came muffled from the crook of her shoulder. Hermione brought her head forward, leaning her brow against his sternum, and lifted her arms to clutch at his shoulders as he aligned his large hand between her legs. His thumb reached for her clit, and his remaining fingers cradled her arse. Crooking the finger wedged deep inside her, he brushed her front wall, and she shuddered against him.

"You're so sensitive, aren't you, Granger? Tell me it's for me. Tell me you're sensitive for me, Granger."

She whimpered into him and rocked her hips to feel the angle shift. When his thumb rolled over her nub, she cried out, "Uh! Yes! It's for you, Draco."

"Good girl," he murmured into the top of her head, and she felt her cunt clench at the finger inside her at his praise. Pride railing against her, Hermione knew she would pursue that praise, hoping to earn Draco’s approval in spite of her ego.

She felt his left hand deftly pull her tit out of her bra, and his questing fingers pinched at her nipple at the same time as he pressed into her clit and cunt. Her following cry earned her another bout of praise, and she keened into him.

"That's it, love," he said as Hermione bucked against him, chasing the rising feeling in her core until her body released and hummed like the snap of a bow string.

"Good girl, Granger," he cooed as her mind drifted back down to her body. Draco was already adjusting her to rest against the building as he brought his hand out from between her legs and crouched before her.

Bonelessly, Hermione allowed him to arrange her body how he wanted it. Her left leg was lifted to drape over his shoulder, and his hands tilted her pelvis to expose her centre to his eyes and mouth.

Every touch against her cunt was sensitive to the point of discomfort, but his tongue was insistent, smooth, and gentle. He coaxed her back up, and when one of her fists grasped his hair, he lifted her right leg to his shoulder, catching her weight before she could fall. His face buried itself in her apex, and she wondered for a second if he could breathe before the thought fled her mind as he lifted her into the air.

Her back slid along the wall as Draco stood on one leg, then stabilized himself on both. One hand snaked between her legs to spread her lips while the other held her weight steadily. She clutched onto his hair and wound her legs around his shoulders to hook her ankles against his chest. 

The firm, hot wetness of his tongue swirled against her slit, and his lips mouthed and teased and sucked at her. He would grunt when she pulled at his hair and groan when she whimpered his name into the air. The vibrations made her jerk against him, and every movement earned her a pinch to the sensitive skin of her hip bone. Trying to remain still took almost all of her concentration, especially as Draco's skilled ministrations wound her tighter and tighter. 

Her left hand slammed against the flat of the wall by her ear and her right hand locked his head in place as she flung her head back and shouted her completion. Her legs cramped as she clamped every muscle in place, desperate not to move when Draco clearly wanted her to remain still while he held her.

This orgasm was longer, and Hermione felt her walls pulse against nothing and her juices rush out into Draco's waiting mouth as he lapped up her come with the flat of his tongue. Vaguely, she could feel his right shoulder twitch beneath her thigh and his arm brush forward and back against the outer edge of her calf. He was stroking himself as he got her off, and the knowledge made her mewl and clench again as aftershocks wracked her.

When the stars left her vision, Hermione peered down her body to find Draco's eyes open, piercing, and ravenous, directed at her face.

His arm stilled with a groan, but he used it with his other to hold her back as he shifted her legs off his shoulders. Carefully and slowly, his biceps and forearms straining at the exertion, he lowered her until her legs could wrap around his waist instead of his head.

Come trailed down his chest from her soaking cunt until her slit rested below his belly button, pooling her slick between them. Regardless of the depravity of her juices between them, Hermione basked in the security and tenderness of being held by Draco Malfoy. That was, until he opened his mouth.

"I knew you'd be sweet." Draco smirked with a wickedly arrogant gleam in his eye, like he'd answered a question in class correctly before she'd had a chance to raise her hand.

Before she could respond, he crushed his mouth to hers, wriggling his musky tongue between her lips, forcing her to taste herself on him. He moaned into her, pressing against her, flattening her into the wall. She sagged down his body a millimetre and his cock nestled in her arse cheeks.

He was long and hard and stiff, and he gasped at the contact. Draco wrenched his face away, eyes screwed shut tightly and a tortured look on his countenance. He breathed deeply against her, their chests brushing on every inhale.

When he didn't move or speak for several heartbeats, Hermione found her voice.

"I thought you were going to fuck me, Malfoy. Did you change your mind?" she taunted.

Draco growled by her temple, his breath making her hair flutter.

"You're going to regret saying that, Granger."

With that, his forearm hooked under one knee, pulling it up her torso, while his hand reached around to grip the back of her hip. She hooked her right leg around his pelvis, tilting it and opening herself up to give his girthy member more room as it drove into her in a long, steady stroke, smoothly easing into her tight channel. 

She tried to relax as Draco’s thick cock stretched her inner walls. His head speared into her until he was fully seated inside her, their bodies joined and hips flush. He stilled. Holding her against him, he didn't move aside from his heaving chest as she adjusted to him.

"Merlin, you're so tight," he breathed, strained. "Fuck. You weren't a virgin were you?"

"Fucking hell, Malfoy! I'm not discussing this _now_!"

As she spoke, he eased out until only his tip remained. He buried himself in a quick thrust.

"Oh, I think we are, Granger. Are you going to be a good girl and answer my question, now?" 

The slow slide of him out followed by the sharp push in made her moan. Her arms scrabbled at his shoulders and neck, desperate to hang on while he fucked her back into the wall.

"Granger!" He punctuated his words with abrupt thrusts. "Were. You. A. Virgin?"

Half delirious at the sensation, she moaned out her answer. "Nooo."

"Fuck," he gasped. "Who had you first?"

"Vi-Viktor."

His palms clasped her arse cheeks, fingers digging into her flesh.

"Who else. Tell me."

His pace picked up until it was almost punishing. She slipped a little, the angle going impossibly deeper. Her eyes rolled back, and she struggled to keep her mind in the moment.

"Just. Just Ron. Once. After the battle. Oh, please, Draco!"

Draco held Hermione still as he dragged himself in and out of her, controlling how much of him she got and when. Her nipples were sensitive, brushing against the cups of her bra, aching to be stimulated.

"And tell me, Granger. Who will be your next? Who will be your last?" he demanded of her.

Hermione really wanted to tell him to shove off, that he couldn't make her declare that now or ever. But as he gripped her backside and pounded into her, she found herself whimpering.

"You, Draco. It's going to be you."

"Good girl." Draco exhaled. Hermione preened. 

He leaned forward, brushing his lips against her brow, then down her nose to her lips. They were both gasping, yet somehow found the air to kiss, tongues tangling with each other and teeth and lips. Hermione could still taste herself on his mouth.

Shifting her weight a bit so she was balanced in one arm, Draco moved his other hand to her neck. He weaved his fingers through her hair and tugged just enough that she would arch her throat to him. His kisses migrated down to the exposed column where he sucked a massive lovebite beneath her chin, where her curls wouldn't cover it.

When he experimentally moved his hand away, she left her throat open to him. Grunting his approval, he skimmed his hand down to her breasts. He pulled the cups down until she spilled over them and he could touch them unhindered. He spread his hand across her chest so his fingers and thumb could strum against both pebbled nipples at once.

All the while he pumped into her, the ridge of his head stimulating her channel with every draw in and out. Hermione chanted his name, faster and faster until she tensed around him, locking him like a vice as she throbbed on him.

"That's right, love, come on my dick. Fuck, Granger, you feel so good, such a good girl," he whispered against her neck, and she wasn't sure if it was meant for her or himself as she ascended to a place where words had no meaning besides a pleased, proud tone.

Hermione's legs were heavy when the contractions eased, and the one that wasn't being supported by Draco's forearm drooped down his hip a little ways. She was too short to touch the ground, and she clutched at him desperately, afraid of falling.

"I've got you," Draco assured her. Then, without further ado, he pulled her nearly off of him and slammed her back down. He held still while he handled and controlled her body's movements. His hands spanned her hips and torso, gripping tighter and tighter as she arched her back at the sensation.

Again, Hermione was climbing, climbing, climbing, but the mountain seemed impossibly tall to the top, to the climax. She just needed something out of reach to topple over the edge again, but she couldn’t quite grasp it as she rocked against Draco’s body.

"Are you going to come again, love?" He asked between gasps and grunts. "I'm close. Should I pull out and come all over your gorgeous tits?"

Hermione's returning babble was nearly incoherent. "No. In. Inside. Close. Potion. Potion. Draco."

Somehow deciphering her words, he groaned long and hard. "What do you need, Granger?"

He snapped their hips together, and Hermione saw stars. Her right leg slipped further down, and her clit rubbed against his pubic bone.

She whimpered and moaned for more of him.

She ground against him four more times before he stilled deep inside her, his thick dick pulsating as he emptied into her with a grunt. The feeling of him coming to completion within her and the ability to watch his face come undone because of _her_ was the last push she needed to follow him off the cliff face into ecstasy.

Draco's legs quivered, but he stood firm, holding Hermione in his arms like she was precious and fragile.

When both their breathing returned to normal, Draco eased Hermione off his softening dick. They gave twin moans at the loss. Then he gently set Hermione on her feet, careful to steady her when her legs trembled.

Come dripped down her thighs, and Hermione searched through her robes for her wand while Draco pulled his trousers and pants up from around his ankles. Locating her wand and turning it on herself to clean up, she startled when Draco's hand enclosed her wrist, wrapping around her rigidly.

"I'm going to shower to clean up from practice, but you're going to march straight to bed with my come in and on you. Do you understand?"

A bubble of obstinate frustration threatened to spill out - it was sticky and itchy and _gross_! - but she thought of four earth shattering orgasms and _You, Draco. It's going to be you_ and the way his voice uttered the words “good girl.” So, instead, she immediately shut her mouth and nodded.

"Good girl," Draco praised, a lazy but honest smile curling his lips, and Hermione grinned, knowing she’d chosen correctly. "And look." He held up her previously torn knickers. "Good as new." And then he pocketed them.

Hermione sighed but delighted that he didn't seem to be pushing her away now that he'd gotten it in her. Draco sent a spell towards her that buttoned her shirt and tied her tie while she stepped back into her skirt. She only momentarily struggled into her vest, and Draco was there to help pull her hair through. She shook off her outer robes, and then she was fully clothed while Draco was still half-naked in front of her.

He gave her a tender kiss, bending down so she wouldn't have to go onto her toes. Then, he said, "I promise to work on our project with you all day tomorrow. Have a good night." 

"You're not off the hook that easily, Malfoy," Hermione blustered back, but they both knew that was a lie as she sauntered back around the corner to retrieve her bookbag and march back up to Gryffindor tower, Draco's come streaming down her thighs.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all enjoyed my kinky little PWP! If you liked, don't forget to share the love with kudos or comments! Concrit is welcome, as always! Thank you so much for reading!


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